Death Stranding comes out this week. That's pretty cool, right? Is everyone getting excited?
I'm not. Yes, I've seen the trailers and read the reviews and viewed the memes. I understand that this will be a big zeitgeisty game that people talk about for months to come. I'm sure it will be a Game of the Year contender, if not for the game itself, at least for what it represents: an auteur-driven experience that seeks to push the boundaries of the medium and innovate in as many ways as possible. It's a blockbuster game release if there ever was one.
The reason I'm not particularly jazzed about Death Stranding is quite simple: I've never played a Hideo Kojima game. I was a Nintendo kid to the core, so by time I grew to an age where I could buy things with my adult money, Kojima's signature franchise, Metal Gear, had a half dozen entries, a rabid fanbase, and a timeline so confusing it makes the X-Men films look coherent.
But that's going to change.
As of right now, I'm embarking on a quest. I'm calling it "Operation H.I.D.E.O." Yes, that is an acronym. It stands for "Hilariously Investigating Developer's Entire Output," because I will be playing every single game directed by Hideo Kojima. That's nine Metal Gear games, the horror game P.T., and finally, Death Stranding. I won't be playing Policenauts, as it's never gotten a Western release, so finding a translated copy won't be easy.
I do have some passing familiarity with Kojima, but there are two main refrains I hear when he's being discussed: the man is a meticulous designer with an eye for detail, and the man has never met a cutscene he thought was too long.
So consider this the first post of many; eleven, total, to be exact. Eleven posts for eleven games, spread out over the next, I don't know, year? Year and half? I've got lots of games to play (and make), so this won't be a non-stop binge. I want the games to breathe a bit. I want to keep them distinct in my head. And I really want to also play Luigi's Mansion 3, which just came out this Thursday. So I'll be alternating games as necessary.
Luckily, since I knew Luigi's misadventures were on the horizon, I made a point to squeeze in Metal Gear earlier last week! So let's talk about that!
Operation H.I.D.E.O. Part 1: Like a Pretty Good Wine
Metal Gear holds a rare place in my gaming library; it is one of only four games released before I was born that I've actually beaten. That's a pretty meaningless distinction, sure, but it's worth pointing out due to the company it now keeps, as it joins the ranks of Sonic the Hedgehog, Super Mario Bros., and, of course, Metroid.
Those are games that I saw through to the end because they each had rock-solid foundations. None of them were perfect by any means, but most of them nailed the fundamentals well enough that a franchise could be built upon them in the coming years.
Metal Gear is no exception.
Despite whatever blend of words like "tactical," "espionage," and "operations" you'd prefer to use, it's clear that Kojima had a very specific vision in mind while developing this game. Replete with with key cards, weapons, and transceiver frequencies, this was very clearly inspired by classic break-in (or -out) movies in the war genre. A quick look at Wikipedia yields a reference to the game's inspiration, and one of my favorite flicks, The Great Escape. Operation H.I.D.E.O. might turn out to be one of the best decisions I've ever made.
Knowing full well that the game was released in 1987, I wasn't expecting the long, drawn-out cutscenes that the internet loves to go on about. I was, however, impressed with how well the story of the game was handled. The slow trickle of information from the Big Boss lulls you into a false sense of security. I was always getting reliable information from my counterpart on the other end of the transceiver, so when I was then ordered into a room full of enemy troops, it was clear something was amiss. Big Boss's heel turn was executed as well as could be given how the game unfolds.
Unfortunately, I already knew, through osmosis, that Big Boss was a villain in this (and later) games. That knowledge, however, doesn't diminish the deftness of the execution. Kojima likes to pull the rug out from under me. Got it. I'll keep my eyes peeled in the future.
My only frustrations with the game are only shortcomings of the technology at the time. How anyone, ANYONE, could play this game without a map absolutely boggles my mind. Due to the lack of clarity over which key cards are required to open what doors, compounded with the samey-ness of each building, my navigation was entirely dependent on a few browser tabs displaying area maps on my other monitor. Likewise, movement was never as tight as I'd have liked it to be, and dying/respawning in the game was more than a little frustrating.
These faults, however, aren't necessarily design flaws. I played Metroid with a map by my side the first time too because Zebes was also a somewhat samey planet full of long, twisting hallways and I'm a spoiled millennial who wants his goddamn map. If the worst sin this game commits is being "par for the course," then we've got a winner on our hands indeed.
Unfortunately, the game does exhibit one other drawback that I'm not sure what to pin it on. Throughout the game you collect key cards. Key cards open doors. There are eight total key cards to collect. A simple lock-and-key mechanic, right? Not quite.
You only have one active slot for your equipment, and doors remain locked, so Metal Gear is an endless exercise in swapping out items. Equip key card one, open door, walk forward a few feet, equip new key card, open new door, etc. Actually no, that's not quite right. Since the doors have no labels on them, it's a little more like "Equip key card, see if it works. No? Equip another key card. How about this time? No? Alright, try a third one." Rinse, repeat.
If Alex Russo were designing this game in 2019? Once you collect a key card, you have access to those doors, all of which are numbered. No inventory management to worry about there.
Relaying information to the player is perhaps the single most important part of game design, since your game is essentially a new language for a player to learn. The easier it is to learn, the more enjoyable it is for the player. I was constantly hitting dead ends in Metal Gear because I didn't know which key card I needed to use (or if I even had it yet)! Eventually I found a map online with the door numbers superimposed, making it easier to chart my path through the game.
Was this a design oversight? Or was this Kojima slavishly adhering to the image of a spy swiping a key card through a door?
At the end of the day, Metal Gear has aged like a pretty good wine. The game has its clunky elements, though most, if not all, of them are a result of the time in which it was made and the limitations therein. Once you factor these in to your play style, the game holds up pretty damn well. The DNA of this game is full of promise, and I'm excited to see how it evolves over the next year or so.
But first, I've got some Luigi's Mansion 3 to play.
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